Traitor's Daughter
by Romulus
Summary: Only the prologue so far. About a girl from Scanra who must flee...or die. Rated PG for later chapters.


A/N: This is the prologue. I will put the disclaimer at the end of the whole series. Ok? Ok. R/R (pleases and light!)   


A tall man wearing swirling black robes sat down across from a much shorter, fatter man with cold black eyes. He pulled a letter out from his robes and set it on the table between them.   
"Is this it?" The short man hissed, leaning back in his chair so his head touch the soft cushion.   
"Yes My Lord. This is the proof you asked for." The tall man replied, opening the letter an handing it to the other man.   
"Thank you Lot." The man's eyes flew down the paper, reading each word, his face turning red with anger as he went. "So they're traitors."   
"Yes Lord." Lot replied, pulling a map towards him. "And they live here..." He pointed at a spot on the map of Scanra.   
"What will you do?"   
"Whatever My Lord commands."   
"I want you to-"   
"My Lord!" The door flung open, interrupting the man's words. "Duke." A thin servant gasped, clutching a stitch in his side. "They are here!"   
"Tell them I am busy." The duke snapped.   
"They won't wait. They are coming!"   
"Tell them to WAIT!" He roared, standing up from his golden chair.   
At that moment, another servant, wearing a blue tunic and breeches, and a white shirt, walked into the room, holding the banner of Tortall. "I present King Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen." He bowed and backed out of the chamber.   
Lot stood up, stuffing the letter back into his robes and pushing the map off the table. The duke stayed seated. The King and Queen of Tortall may have been in his castle, but he was the ruler of Scanra. He refused to bow to his enemies, like Lot did.   
Jonathan walked in slowly, dressed in royal blue robes with silver stitching, his beard cut shorter than normal. He walked slowly, and stopped, waiting for the duke to bow. When he didn't, he turned and nodded, and Queen Thayet walked in. She looked as radiant as ever in a lavender dress with silver trim. She curtsied to the duke, and sat down across from him, next to the king.   
"Duke Fatra." Jonathan nodded. "We are here to discuss a peace treaty."   
"What are the terms?" Fatra asked, folding his hands in his lap.   
"We want peace. We will not fight you if you do not allow raiders to enter Tortall and you stop having your metal machines attack the caravans."   
"I do not control my raiders."   
"You harbor them and therefore are responsible for their actions, Duke!"   
" I do not kick them out of kill them. That is all."   
"Keep them out of Tortall. And stop making those destructive machines."   
"I will try to keep my raiders in my country, but if they escape I am no longer responsible. I will not stop making the machines. We need protection. We are not as large as Tortall and do not have a very organized military."   
"You must stop!" Jon stood up, his eyes flashing.   
Thayet put a hand on her husbands arm, and he sat. She turned to Duke Fatra. "We do not want to fight you. You do not want to fight us. Why can't you sign the treaty? The terms are not unreasonable. You stop letting raiders roam freely without punishment and stop making destructive machines, and we will stop attacking those raiders and machines. It benefits us both. Please. Be reasonable." She said all of this softly and kindly, but with a slight note of determination in her voice that only her friends would hear.   
"I am sorry my lady. I do not agree. The raiders act as our military. Our first defense, stopping your army before the reach the border. And our machines are your knights. That is all. I cannot sign the treaty."   
"Won't you reconsider?" Thayet asked sweetly.   
"I will not. Good day." He nodded, and the kind and queen stood up and left.   
When they had gone Lot sat down again. "This makes our plane more urgent, Lot. If the traitors flee, like this letter suggests they will, Tortall will have our information. They were close to the crown before their link was killed. They must be executed."   
"The plan?" Lot asked.   
"Post this notice on their door early tomorrow morning." He handed a notice to Lot. "It says 24 hours. In ten, return, and bring them here for execution."   
"Yes my lord." Lot bowed and walked out of the room.   
"This will go perfectly..." Duke Fatra whispered to no one, rubbing his hands together, an evil smile on his evil face. 


End file.
